Handiwork
by Youkkun
Summary: The bastard probably thinks it's funny, in his own mustache-twirling, evil villain sort of way.   MihawkxZoro  Rated T for language and suggestiveness. Spoilers for chapter 592 onward.


A/N: Beware of OOC Zoro. And Mihawk, for that matter.

Through the thick stone walls he can hear the candy-haired banshee stomping around the castle, screeching about being bored. He wonders how Mihawk puts up with the eccentric girl and decides that the dark-haired man had more patience than he ever will. That doesn't really bother him.

What does bother him is other swordsman's complete and utter lack of concern about Zoro living under the same roof as him. He knows that he's just not at the level he needs to be to challenge the Hawk-Eyes, and that's probably why Mihawk has no qualms about letting Zoro skulk around his mansion. The bastard probably thinks it's funny, in his own, mustache-twirling, evil villain sort of way.

Scratching his stomach absent-mindedly, Zoro's calloused fingers move over the jutted ridges of his scar and he starts to doze off.

Perona's voice is getting louder, and he can hear footsteps outside of his room. She's probably given up on trying to pester the old man and is going to try her luck with him.

Zoro is having none of it. The last thing he wants to do right now is babysit some spoiled brat. He rolls away from the doorway, and curls up, trying to feign sleep.

The door creaks slowly open, and Zoro squeezes his eyes shut, hoping Perona will leave him alone if she thinks he's really asleep.

A heavy weight settles onto the side of the bed, resting against his knee and Zoro's eyes snap open out of reflex.

Perona doesn't have the kind of bulk to sink the bed like that. And those aren't Perona's golden eyes gazing down at him.

The hairs on the back of Zoro's neck stand up and he watches warily, wondering what the other man is thinking.

Mihawk has no issues with invading Zoro's personal space. In fact, he seems to be doing it more frequently now that Zoro's wounds are healed. His eyes meet Zoro's for a split second, and then they travel down to the bronze skin exposed between his shirt and trousers. Pale fingers reach up and Zoro quells the urge to flinch.

They travel along the path of the scar, starting from the hip and moving upwards, pushing the dark blue fabric of Zoro's shirt out of the way as they go. Feather-light brushes against his stomach have Zoro squirming, and he finally gives in, grabbing Mihawk's wrist as roughly as he dares and scrambling backwards.

"Knock it off, bastard!" he shouts, red-faced, releasing Mihawk's wrist gingerly.

Mihawk doesn't seem perturbed. His eyes travel back up to study Zoro's reaction. "I'm merely admiring my handiwork," he states flatly, as if explaining something to an irritable child.

He reaches up with both hands and pushes Zoro back down onto the bed, effectively riding his shirt up even more. He licks his lips once and fingers trace up Zoro's abdomen and then deviate to a smaller incision next to the green-haired man's heart.

The thrill of danger coupled with his over sensitized skin is making for a lousy voice of reason and Zoro comes up with nothing but incoherencies when he opens his mouth again.

Mihawk finds this amusing, apparently, because a chuckle reverberates deeply through his chest and the sound does funny things to Zoro's heart.

And…other places, too.

"One centimeter further and I would've pierced your heart," he murmurs, leaning down ever so slightly.

The scent of wine and polished steel wafts over Zoro and his blood is singing. His hands reach up slowly and grasp the light cloth of Mihawk's dress shirt. He's half-pulling, half-pushing and he's not quite sure what he wants anymore.

He won't get the chance to think it through, either, because the Perona can handle no more boredom and phases through the wall, calling out in her whiniest voice:

"Where are you? I'm bored and lonely! Play with-"

She freezes and gapes like an absurd tropically colored fish when she catches sight of them on the bed.

Zoro is sure he's going to die of embarrassment. Mihawk begins to move and Zoro almost breathes a sigh of relief thinking that it's over.

But he decides, as warm lips make contact with his flushed skin, that it's not over by a long shot. He muffles a groan and his eyes dart back over to the ghost-girl halfway through the wall.

She's staring, wide-eyed, as if the prospect of staying to watch is conflicting with her survival instincts.

"Get out of here!" Zoro roars, ashamed, and watches as she flees.

It's going to be a painfully long two years, Zoro decides.


End file.
